


A True Treasure

by TheHuggamugCafe



Series: Easter Sinday [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Glove Kink, Insecurity, Jealous!Reader, Jealousy, Leather Kink, Praise Kink, Reader Is In A Bunny Suit, Reader has a palace, Reader-Insert, Shadow!Reader, shy!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 17:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: It wasn’t the most orthodox heist.Nothing was as it seemed when it concernedyou, after all.But even so…He won’t allow you to face your inner demons by yourself.





	A True Treasure

Five fingers. A single palm. The feeling of leather.

That was what you felt cupping the dark spot of your cotton pantyhose, and you caught a flash of white as pearly teeth were bared to your face, blushing cheeks, dark doe eyes, and your mouth that was curved to a perfectly shaped _o_.

The cold floor of the spacious private room pulled a shudder from you as it touched the nape of your neck, your bare shoulders, and the portion of your back that was between the slit in the bunny suit you wore. A shiver wormed its way through your body, resulting in quaking hips and shuddering thighs.

Your instincts screamed at you to clamp your legs shut; your meek demeanour threatened to overpower the spark of rebellion that was lit inside of you.

However…

The fire in your belly was kept burning, consistently rekindled by the smooth strokes that leather-covered fingers blessed your warm, wet insides with friction _and_ movement.

The fire in your lower abdomen complimented the throbbing, the aching want that made your doe eyes prick with heated moisture as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and trickle down your blushing bride cheeks.

Your mind chided you with dark thoughts laced with unkind insults, hissing and snarling and seething to you.

_**You’ll spread your legs for any man.** _

You wouldn’t. You hadn’t.

There was only one man whose hands you wanted anywhere on you, be it between your legs or elsewhere across your sweating and trembling body.

The fact that you willed your legs to stay open, baring them—and what, specifically, was between them—to the masked leer of the phantom thief who eyed you from above was proof enough for you.

Your classmate’s eyes, Akira’s eyes, greedily stared at the dark and wet patch that was between your legs. The very same part of you which he fingered, groped, and stroked through your pantyhose, offering you a full-on teaser of what was to come.

_**Have you no shame, you slut?** _

Honestly, why should you be feeling shame?

There was no one here but you, the golden-eyed look-a-like of yourself who watched from the stage, one ankle crossed over the other and her hands between her legs, and your crush. The so-called “delinquent transfer student” who was a part of your college’s rumour mill, albeit an unwilling part of it.

“A-Akira, I— _ah_!”

Your shy stammer was abruptly cut off by not only a flick of a wrist, but the slow and careful prodding of leather-covered digits.

There was a flash of pink as Akira licked his teeth, lips bared to a bestial sneer as his onyx irises leered at you from behind the slits in his mask as he leaned down, slowly, to breathe a husky chuckle into your ear.

“It would please me if you called me _Joker_ here, my dear.”

Your heart soared at the affectionate title he cooed into the crook of your neck, black hair tickling your sweating skin as he nuzzled his nose while simultaneously pressing quick, hot kisses to your throat.

“M-My dear?” you repeated, your dark and doe-like irises shining dreamily.

You were dreaming. You _had_ to be dreaming; there was no other explanation.

There was no way that your secret crush, Akira Kurusu, had just called you his _dear_ _._

He paused to silently relish in the way you shivered, breathing a cute little gasp as you unconsciously tugged on the gloved palm and the leather-covered fingers that kept both of your hands pinned to the private room’s floor. There was no way to miss the difference between your bare knuckles and the chilly floor, fingers pricking with tiny white-hot needles as they brushed against the floor.

“J-Joker?”

A sudden and sharp nip to your collarbone was your answer, pulling a soft moan from you as a pleased snicker warmed your neck as the daredevil smiled, showing a flash of white teeth as he gave you a charming smirk.

“Yes, that’s right,” he purred, sounding happy at your stuttered reiteration of his code name.

“And if I may be so bold to say this, but… I can’t help but notice that you’re _shivering_ , love.”

He paused, onyx eyes shining with amusement as his gaze left you to slowly stare at the manifestation of your Treasure, practically glowing with pride as it hovered in the air directly behind your Shadow.

It took the form of a shimmering jewellery box encrusted with gems, and lined with golden and silver trimmings. He had a feeling as to what its contents would be should he ever hold it and open it…

He _had_ given you an item that was worth more than gold to you in the real world, after all.

To say he would be surprised to discover that the item he’d given you on your birthday—a silver necklace in the shape of a heart, fitted with your birthstone in the indentation—was not, in fact, the real-life Treasure you held so dearly would be putting it nicely.

“Honestly… To think that _I_ am the cause of your distorted desires…”

You had no idea what he meant by these so-called “distorted desires” you apparently had, but the knowledge of the hand that was between your shivering thighs slowly but surely picking up speed, switching from a slow and mindful stroke to vigorously rubbing the damp area of your pantyhose, robbed all sense of thought or iota of _caring_ to think from you.

“I’m honoured to be the one to steal your heart… After all…”

The smirk that tugged at Akira’s lips— _no, no,_ _**Joker’s**_ _lips,_ you mentally corrected yourself—looked almost predatory now, and a matching gleam lit up his obsidian eyes.

What had once been warm onyx were irises that may as well have been dark gems touched with hellfire. So _sure_ of himself, so _confident_ in his ability to tease you.

“Your heart belongs to me. No one else can possess it _**or**_ possess _you_ but _me.”_

_**“That’s** **right~. That’s what you’ve been hoping to hear from him, right, my other self~?”** _

A giggle made you and Joker eye your duplicate, her daffodil irises shimmering with malicious glee as a second laugh left her lips, her smirking mouth that was touched with a shining layer of lip gloss. Slowly, a frown took possession of your lips, replacing the content little grin.

You felt the tingles of the green-eyed monster already beginning to settle in your chest, dead centre—exactly where your heart was, beating erratically—and pump the poison of passion’s cruel counterpart throughout your body.

A deep and unsettling cold slowly washed over you, and with it came a feeling you knew all too well.

It was the feeling that came as a result of your fellow classmate, Ann Takamaki, whenever your eyes fell on the blonde, blue-eyed foreigner and happened to see _him_ —the one you quietly fell head over heels for, the man you fell hopelessly in love with—in her presence.

It was the feeling that silently rose up inside you, bubbling deep within your soul like a venomous concoction as your gaze fell upon a brunette with crimson eyes: Makoto Niijima. You knew she was a part of the college’s Student Council—more specifically, she was the President of the Student Council—and she, in contrast to Ann’s personality, seemed to be more than a tad distant with her school peers and classmates.

It was the emotion that took a hold of your chest whenever a bespectacled orange-haired girl followed Akira around the college campus like a shy puppy, always hiding behind him when he and his friends were surrounded by students and members of the faculty.

It was the emotion that reached for and successfully ensnared your heart in an invisible and tight, white-knuckled fist as your eyes fell upon a girl with fluffy brown hair and warm brown eyes, a gentle smile curling her lips as she and Akira talked over coffee in a certain café after school.

You hated it. You hated _everything_ that led up to and including the present moment.

You hated how he’d been shunned as an outcast.

You hated how he had been deemed as a no-good troublemaker before he even stepped foot into the school.

You hated how someone so quiet, kind, and polite could be seen as a delinquent transfer student.

More than that… Above everything else…

You hated how quietly but quickly you fell for him the more you interacted with him.

You hated the nostalgic feeling of heat crawling up from your neck to your face, shamelessly burning your cheeks with heat whenever his bespectacled eyes just so happened to land on you.

You hated whenever he asked you if you needed help studying for upcoming exams and you—silently drowning in your hopelessly romantic woes—could do nothing else but nod shyly, cheeks flaring pink, and stuttering out your thanks.

You hated how you didn’t have the courage to fess up.

You hated how you couldn’t admit that you _loved_ Akira Kurusu.

And yet… And yet…

You hated _yourself_ more than anything.

You had given up on the notion that his eyes would ever land on you and see someone special.

You had given up and you hadn’t even _tried_ to tell him how you felt.

Why would someone as beautiful as Akira ever like  _or_ love a mediocre college student like _you_ , after all?

In contrast to someone like him, who shined like the twinkling stars at night and his smile could make the sun seem dim, there wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy or interesting about you.

Your didn’t earn top grades like Makoto, who was gifted with intelligence.

Your appearance wasn’t head-turning like Ann, who was a natural-born beauty.

Your personality wasn’t endearing or quirky, not like the bespectacled Futaba.

You didn’t possess the motherly warmth of the heiress to Okumura Foods, Haru.

You were just…

 _You_.

Nobody special.

Certainly not good enough for the likes of the mysterious transfer student: Akira Kurusu.

The hot liquid that flooded your eyes blurred your vision, mixing the glaring lights, black hair, the smirk that slowly became a frown, and obsidian eyes that shone quietly in concern as warm tears slid down your burning cheeks.

You breathed a soft sob as a tightness gripped a hold of your chest, staring up into the face of the man you loved as you cried to yourself.

“…Darling…?”

The vigorous rubbing gradually slowed down, the flat of a gloved palm and leather-covered fingers resting against the obvious wet spot on your pantyhose. Warm onyx irises stared down at you through the slits in the mask that he wore, turning dark with worry.

 _ ** **“** Go on~. Be honest with yourself for a change. Live and learn and all that nonsense! Confess. Confess. Confess! Confess! And who knows? Maybe he’ll reciprocate? Then you could finally be happy—happy with him, just as you’ve always wanted. Or are you **_ _afraid_ _ **?”** _

The glare of your copy honed in on you and only you, yellow irises swimming with malicious amusement as she bared her teeth in a sneer.

_**“I** **know. I know what you really fear: rejection. Love is the spice of life after all, right? He’s the only person who makes it worth going to that shitty college, isn’t he? But… If he turned you down… If he told you that he loved someone else… Then you’d have no need to go to school anymore. Life wouldn’t be worthwhile, would it?”** _

A maniacal little giggle left your doppelgänger’s smirking glossed lips, and dark laughter danced in her shimmering irises. The gold-tinted gaze may as well have been the glower of a demon from the deepest pits of Hell, and she was certainly no holy warrior of a higher power.

You were positive that no celestial being would sneer with malice, hissing hellfire through her smiling lips and past her pearly teeth. You were sure that no angel would ever have eyes that shone with ill intentions or speak such cold, unforgiving truth to you.

 _ **“** **As**_ _**cliché** _ _**as it sounds, the light of living would be sucked from you. All you want is someone to love you, hold you, and tell you that he treasures you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something others flaunt so freely, is there? And what you want, no,** _ _who_ _**you want is right in front of you. So… Ask! Ask him if he is yours! Ask him if you are his! Ask him if he will have you and no one else but you!”** _

There it was. The sneering and ridiculing voice you knew so well.

The voice that always, _always_ lingered at the back of your mind.

The voice that always, _always_ told you—no, _demanded_ you—to be assertive. To walk with your head held high and move with confidence in your strut.

You may have been annoyed with her for taking on your likeness. There wasn’t a thing that looked out of place to you—that is to say, nothing except for the crop top that was covered by a short leather jacket, three-inch heeled shoes, and pantyhose that was so, so like yours.

You may have greatly disliked your marigold-eyed twin in the present, but you couldn’t help but quietly admit that she did have a point.

It was now or never.

“I… I…”

You swallowed a gulp, one that you swore was the size of a baseball. The damp sweat that dripped from your crown clashed with the bright pink of your cheeks, and the colour—the light rose pink that made your cheeks glow out of embarrassment—was slowly taking on a light cherry red.

The longer your wide, watery-eyed stare remained locked with Akira’s gaze, the more meek you became.

And yet… And yet…

The glove-covered hand that was between your legs hadn’t moved, but you still felt the smooth leather pressing against the thin black pantyhose.

A fresh wave of shyness hit you as you recalled coming across the bunny suit you wore. You had found it draped over the stage of the room you currently resided in, but even so…

A sense of daring crept up on you.

It was time for you to shrug off that shy and meek college girl mask for once.

It was time for you to step into something that made you feel like a woman.

But any sense of daring had crumbled to dust when not only _Akira_ found you in your current state, but a walking, breathing twin who looked very much like you did and claimed to be your “other self.” Whatever that meant.

You couldn’t continue to go throughlife the way you lived it up to now. You _knew_ you couldn’t.

You couldn’t stay as a meek wallflower forever.

Your shy nature resulted you in having a few friends, sure, but even less of your friends could be called true companions.

You were so clingy and so desperate for friends that you didn’t want to admit it, but some of your so-called “friends” were just using you for their own means, and yet you didn’t have the heart or the resolve to cut them out of your life.

Why would you want to continue living so miserably?

That was no way for anybody to live.

In your eyes such a fate would be worse than dying; hell, it was melodramatic, but you may as well be dead.

Suddenly…

_An epiphany hit you._

You had been so focused on wanting Akira to notice you that you had failed to realize that he had something you didn’t. People who depended on him and who he, in turn, depended on.

You couldn’t help but breathe a laugh.

You laid on the cold, hard floor, chuckling dryly at your shortsighted views.

_Inclusion. Reliability. Love. Friendship. Trust. Loyalty. Memories._

You wanted _all of that_ _._

You couldn’t help but feel selfish for feeling jealous over the man you loved.

_Is it so wrong of me to want what he has?_

“ _No_!” you suddenly screamed, your leaking eyes hardening despite the glistening tears.

“I don’t want that to be the way I live!”

“I don’t want _just_ Akira by my side!”

“I don’t _just_ want to have someone to love me!”

“I want to have friends, real friends, by my side!”

“I want friends who will smile with me, cry with me, and laugh with me!”

“I want friends who will be there for the good times and bad times!”

Your shouts echoed throughout the private dance room, and with each determined cry from you, the smile that curled your golden-eyed twin’s lips grew wider and wider. As her smile stretched wider, showing more gleaming white teeth, her laughter became louder and grew higher until she was practically cackling in tune with your straightforward attitude.

_**“S** **o you finally realized… You’ve been selfish. You were jealous of the man you love. Now… What do you intend to do about it? How will you make up for your mistakes?”** _

“I won’t run away! I won’t hide from who I am anymore! I won’t repeat the mistakes of the past! I’ll make amends however I can, but I will no longer lie to myself!”

A cold but pleased snicker left your gold-eyed twin sitting on the stage, bringing her hands together in a round of applause.

 _ **“Yes, that’s right~. Nothing can be achieved by dancing to others’ whims. It’s time for you to stop with this good girl charade and dance to no one’s tune but your own. That is what I wish for more than anything, and that is what**_ _you_ _**desire more than anything. Isn’t it?”** _

“It is! I will not bend my knees or bow my head to anyone! No one will take my will from me! _Never_!”

You said nothing else, but your eyes no longer cried tears; you kept your gaze fixed on Akira, irises glowing with newfound resolution.

_**“I** **am thou, thou art I… My mask is yours, and your mask is mine. I will always be watching over you from within. Farewell for now and do have fun, my dear~.”** _

Your Shadow’s lips curled to a smile, a true and pleasant smile, disappearing in a show of light. You weren’t entirely sure what just happened, but you could feel her presence settling within you—and with it came a strength you didn’t know you had.

For a moment and only a moment, you could have sworn that you saw a brief reflection of daffodil-coloured irises in his obsidian eyes.

“Akira, I… No… Joker, I…”

You hesitated, considering what you wanted to say.

“I want… I want to feel wanted… I want to feel needed… I want to feel love and real companionship.”

You took in a slow and shaky breath, steadying yourself.

“That’s all I want… I want to stop feeling this insufferable loneliness… I want to stop feeling jealous over you.”

You blinked away the tears that tried to form and drip down your cheeks.

“I want to stop feeling like I’m worthless… I want to feel like I mean something to someone, _anybody_.”

You swallowed, blinking your eyes while staring the masked thief fully in the face.

“I love you. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. Will you be mine and… And… May I be yours?”

A sudden and rough thrust to your damp pantyhose was your answer, and the unexpected thrust of leather-covered fingers resulted in a sharp gasp from you—a gasp that was swallowed by a pair of lips that sought yours out, laying their rightful claim to your mouth.

“If you say I am yours… Then…”

Joker pulled back from your mouth with a wet pop, pausing to give your lower lip a nibble as a sort of farewell that successfully pulled a whimper from you, and made a toothy smirk touch the corner of his lips.

“Henceforth, you are _mine_ _._ Do you understand? You are _mine_ and only _mine_ _.”_

“I-I understand, Joker,” you mewled, earning a pleased purr from the male hovering above you.

“Good girl.”

You shivered as five leather-covered fingers and the gloved palm they were connected to slowly, oh so slowly released your wrists. A vague prickling feeling trailed up your arms, up your palms and tickled the pads of your fingers with a sensation that felt like tiny needles, but you ignored it in favour of watching as the same hand trailed to your chest, resting where your heart beat fast and furious.

“Is the heart that beats inside your chest _mine_ _?_ Only _mine_ _?”_

“It’s yours, Joker! O-Only yours! ”

“Oh? Good. Good. And… If I may ask…”

A second and more forceful series of strokes graced your pantyhose, exactly where your glistening womanhood lay.

You thought he might dislike the fact that he couldn’t fuck you with his hand, hidden only by the smooth red leather that covered it, but if the fact that the friction only served to spur him onward was any inclination…

He obviously didn’t mind it, in fact…

You saw a quick flash of pink as his tongue licked his teeth, obsidian eyes leering down at you with that telltale glint that was oh so familiar.

It was the look a wild animal might make when it happened upon prey it found worthy to devour.

“Is this warm and wet, aching pussy _mine_? All _mine_?”

“Y-Yes! It’s yours! A-All yours, I promise!”

“Then…”

The only forewarning you received was the feeling of a weight gently pressing against you, resting over your scantily clad self. A brief shudder possessed you at the feeling of the smooth black leather tailcoat pressing against your bunny top, and you couldn’t help but rut your hips into the thief’s waiting hand, but your shiver and rapidly moving hips were rewarded with both a grin and a warm, pleased chuckle from the frizzy-haired thief.

“I am yours… I will always be yours, Treasure.”

The warm feeling of lips tenderly pressing to yours officially sealed the deal.

**Author's Note:**

> Well.
> 
> This was fun to write.
> 
> I feel pretty _meh_ about this, to be honest.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you, dear reader, enjoyed your Easter Sinday treat.
> 
> Also, credit goes to the amazing Krisaliachan for giving me ideas for this.


End file.
